Week 11 – The Road to Liverpool Continues

Hello again.

Eleven weeks ago I started a journey, a commitment to record and reflect on my training as I build towards Liverpool XC 2026. At the time, it felt simple: be consistent, track the process, improve gradually. Eleven weeks later, it already feels like a condensed career. There’s been the high of placing second in the Essex XC League on a course with enough elevation to make you question whether you’d accidentally entered a fell race, and the low of picking up a Grade 1 soleus tear on my right side. That was followed, naturally, by the completely rational anxiety that my left calf would tear too because it felt tight. Who would have thought a physio would skip his own exercises and then act surprised at the consequences?

If this is your first time reading, welcome. You may have found me via Instagram or TikTok, which, statistically speaking, is far more likely than you actively searching for a running blog in 2026. Either way, I appreciate you being here. If there’s anything you’d prefer me to reflect on more deeply (the sessions, the setbacks, the mental side) let me know. You’re the one giving up time to read this.

Now, onto the actual update, which is technically my first blogged weekly reflection, but week eleven of the build. This week totalled 55 kilometres. That number in isolation isn’t extraordinary, but right now it represents something more important than volume: control. I’m consciously building the load back progressively, resisting the temptation to throw mileage on too quickly and force my muscles and joints to operate at a million revs per minute before they’re ready. Fitness rewards patience; injury punishes ego. I’m trying to stay on the right side of that equation.

There were two solid quality sessions across the week, and we’re now entering that slightly awkward transition period where cross country strength starts to blend into early track sharpness. Track season is creeping closer and I’m not sure how to feel about it. Anyway, the session that stood out most to me was 20x200m, closing the final rep in 26 seconds. That felt significant. It reassured me that the work from last summer hasn’t evaporated and that a short, irritating injury spell hasn’t stripped away the speed I worked hard to build. Sometimes you don’t need a breakthrough session, you just need confirmation that you haven’t gone backwards.

Nationals is now six days away, 12km around Durham. I can think of many calmer ways to spend a Saturday afternoon, but not many better ones. The plan is straightforward: train as normal for the first three days of the week, then taper for the following three. I won’t run the day before the race, a personal tradition I’ve only broken once, which coincided with what I still classify as the worst race of my life. Superstition? Possibly. But routines matter, and confidence is built on familiarity.

So in short: 55 kilometres, two strong sessions, speed intact, and Nationals looming. The build continues, imperfect, slightly chaotic at times, but moving forward nonetheless. Welcome.